


Flipping the Coin

by puppydr3



Series: small house big men [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Consent, Humiliation, JOI - Freeform, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Masturbation, Mild slut shaming?, Multi, Phone Sex, Praise Kink, Slow Burn, Switch Georgenotfound, Switch Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Verbal Consent, Verbal Humiliation, Wet Dream, angst first sorry, degradation kink, mlm, phone domming, same house au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:15:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28231521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puppydr3/pseuds/puppydr3
Summary: Sapnap questions if a rumor about himself is actually true. Or, in which Sapnap gets lonely and accidentally horny texts the groupchat.twt - puppydr3
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/Dream, GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: small house big men [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056851
Comments: 69
Kudos: 803
Collections: MCYT





	1. mistakes were made.

11:30

nick !

_ hey, you guys still awake? I’m bored over here and my computer won’t boot up. _

11:36 

nick ! 

_ guys :’(((( _

  
  


Nick ran his hand through his hair, droplets of sweat sticking under his fingers. He knew he was due for a shower after such a long plane ride, but he couldn’t bring himself to get out of the hotel chair. As soon as he had walked into his room, he had shut the door and immediately slumped into it, not even bothering to shove his suitcase under the bed. The plane had been hot and stuffy, seats barely big enough for him to sit comfortably without pressing at least one of his limbs into an unsuspecting neighbor.

Conventions were Nick’s least favorite part of being a content creator. Not because he hated his fans or anything, but there was just no privacy. People would rush at him every minute, and he couldn’t even adjust his shirt without thousands of pictures being all over twitter with a new trending hashtag.

#Onenipplenap was the most recent one after a fan had challenged him to a fight and he had partially lifted his shirt up, stuck his tongue out and flipped them off. Turns out the lighting was off, and the candid picture someone took made it look like he only had one nipple. 

That was not the weirdest rumor he’d heard about himself, though.

His least favorite was ‘subnap’, or whatever it was called. Clay had called him his bitch on stream _ one time _ . Nick had denied it vehemently, explaining that he could take his friend down with one punch. As soon as George got involved, he knew it was over for him. Chat would listen to anything that the british boy spouted, even if it went against all logic and common sense.

That specific rumor was actually the one which had done him in earlier on the plane. Nick had been sleeping rather peacefully, his head tucked into the space where his seat ended and his seatmates’ began. The dream had started well, as they usually did. 

_ He was standing in a field of wild grass. Barefoot. The blades tickled against his calves as he reclined, leaning down onto his elbows. It was calm. Peaceful, even.  _

The plane hummed gently as it coasted, the noise lulling Nick back into his dream.

He was at rest, staring up into the cloudless sky. Nothing in sight. It was silent to the point that even the drop of a coin onto the dirt would have seemed like a gunshot. 

That was why it was so startling when a hand wrapped around his throat. 

Nick was shoved to the ground full force, his head ricocheting off of the packed dirt. All he could see was the wild grass up close. He was pinned down hard, one hand holding his hip and the other holding the back of his neck against the dirt. 

The hands felt familiar, and yet he didn’t recognize them. They were calloused as they rubbed through his hair, more gently than they should have. 

Why was this happening to him? And why didn’t he think it was a nightmare? 

Fuck. 

The hand in his hair started to feel good, and the unrelenting pressure of the other against his hips made him want to whine and grind into the ground. It was a dream after all, no sense in not taking pleasure where he could find it. 

Nick moaned wantonly, and the grip in his hair tightened to a degree of painfulness. He had never enjoyed it when any of his previous girlfriends had grabbed his hair too roughly, but this was just right. 

The hand on his hip curled it’s fingers in, digging into the soft flesh around his pelvis. Another moan fell out of his mouth of its own volition. The person behind him seemed to chuckle darkly at that, and only grabbed him harder. 

Wait. There were two laughs. 

Two people had him pinned in his dream. 

Now, Nick had never considered himself much of a non-monogamist, but he was learning quite a lot on this plane ride. That left the question of who his attackers were.

His hands fumbled around in the dirt looking for purchase, only to be met with another to keep him pinned. 

“Where do you think you’re going, pretty boy?” 

The voice was distinctively gravelly, with an accent he recognized. 

FUCK.

There was no way that Nick was going to let himself have a wet dream on the plane about his two best friends. He may have joined the mile-high club for the first time dreaming of them, but he wasn’t going to let it go on any longer. 

He squeezed his eyes together as hard as he could, trying not to focus on the _oh so_ _pleasant_ hands on his hand, head and hips. Doing everything he usually did to escape his nightmares. 

It worked, to his surprise. 

Rolling shoulders as he awoke, Nick found the plane was around 5 minutes from landing, and his seat partner was still fast asleep. No one had seemed to recognize him when he boarded the plane, so there was no worry about a picture of him mid-wet dream circulating the internet. 

The memory of the dream flashed through his head again as he held his head in his hands, rocking back into the not-so-sturdy hotel armchair. He just wanted it out of his head. Whatever it was. He wasn’t sure if it was just the dream at this point. It was all he saw in his head on the ride from the airport. Dream’s rough hands gripping his hips from behind, George’s soft ones pinning down his hands. He wanted the thoughts gone, but they only came back threefold.

_ Law of attraction, huh?  _

Nick laughed at his own pun. Who knew he could be so funny when he was stressed to all hell. 

The unsent message sat in his chat box, a reminder of his failings as a friend. 

‘I want you. I want you both. God. I’m just typing this out to make myself feel better. I can’t stop thinking about you. Both of you. Please. I had this dream… it was so good.’ 

It was uncomfortable to see himself laid so bare in text message form, but he was well aware that he was never going to send it, so why did it matter? Nick let out one final sigh before going to swipe out of the chat. 

Or, at least he thought he did. 

It took awhile for him to manage to get his suitcase unpacked. It was hard to make his hands stop shaking, much less make them move in a way he wanted. Forever went by before Nick finally managed to get all of his clothes into drawers. Nothing was folded, just stuffed haphazardly into the dresser. 

He hadn’t been on his phone the entire time. It was nearly dead by the time he decided to plug it in, and he thought it was best to leave it alone for the time being. Distracting himself by looking at the unread chats would only upset him more. 

Peeling off his sweat soaked shirt, he managed to get himself under the covers before the seperation anxiety overtook him. 

It was a slow and painful process to reach over and unplug his phone, and when he did, his heart sank. 

8 missed calls from Claymeister 

4 missed calls from Gog <3

13 unread messages

He considered that maybe they felt bad for not responding? But there were too many messages for it to make sense. Nick’s addled brain went through all of the possibilities.

Did he get cancelled on Twitter? That would suck. 

Attempting to slow down his racing heart, he raised the brightness on his phone to let his Face ID do its job. The familiar blue light seemed to calm him slightly, and he relaxed back into his pillow. He went to check his messages, and his heart stopped. 

He sent it. 

He had sent the message. 

Nick felt his stomach doing backflips under the sheets. He had ruined everything. Everything they’d built as friends, everything they created. 

His hands shook as he held the phone in his hands, anticipating the disgusted messages he’d gotten from his boys. 

12:07

Claymeister 

_ fuck dude. you can’t just say that when you’re so far away.  _

Gog <3 

_ sap, we need you to pick up  _

Claymeister

_ you okay? sorry if this is overwhelming  _

Gog <3 

_ you good? i’m worried _

Claymeister 

_ i’m sorry bro i didn’t mean to say what i said i’m super super sorry if i made you uncomfortable or anything  _

  
  


12:13

Claymeister 

_ please pick up _ . 

  
  


The slight vibration of his phone shook him out of his stupor. His finger hovered over the accept button, tempting his fate. If he answered it, he’d have to deal with the consequences of his actions. If he ignored them, he could change his name and run away to Canada to have a new life. 

The second option was seeming better by the moment as the phone rang. 

On the ninth ring, he felt his finger gravitate towards the accept button. Before he could blink, he heard Clay’s voice from the other side of the phone. It was kind, caring. He’d only heard his voice like that one time, when George’s beloved cat passed. Usually it was quick witted banter and flirting, but Nick could tell it was different now. 

“Nick… Are you okay? You’ve been MIa for like 30 minutes dude, I was starting to wonder.” 

Clay’s voice seemed to echo around his small hotel room, filling in the cracks in the walls. 

“Yeah. I’m fine,” was all that he could bring himself to say. The shake in his voice was still there, and getting stronger by the moment. 

“Sappy…” Came a british accent, his voice shrill with concern. “Promise me you’re safe. We want to talk but we want you to be safe first, okay?”

As soon as he heard the word ‘talk’, Nick could feel himself spiraling. He didn’t want to talk. Not even a little bit. 

The boys on the other end must have heard his hesitation. 

“Nothing bad dude, I promise,” Clay drawled, trying to make his voice as soft as possible. 

“Sure. I’m safe, I’m fine. Is that what you wanted to hear?” Nick asked, annoyance clear with the question. 

“Yes. That was exactly what I wanted to hear, but maybe something more if you’re willing.” 

Clay’s voice had hardened, and he could feel his eyes barely roll back in his head at the sound. 

“If you’re willing, of course,” echoed George, his voice lower. 

“Willing for what?” Nick knew it was a tough question, and one he probably didn’t want the answer to. 

Oh God, he didn’t want to explain his newfound attraction over the phone at fuck all in the morning.

“We got your text,” was the only response. 

He knew he was done for. There was no coming back from that. He couldn’t take it back, or pretend like it was a joke. Not after his anxious voice and the quake in his words. 

“Yeah. I guess you did,” he sighed, giving into his new future. “I’m sorry guys. I didn’t think before I sent it. I didn’t mean to send it. Please…. please don’t hate me.” 

Across the phone, Nick could swear he heard a deep breath being taken. 

“It’s the opposite.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. negotiation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this dynamic was heavily influenced by FourWings’ ‘George is a brat, ouch’ series! go check them out <3

“What?” 

That was all he could choke out. A million images ran through his head. Some were of George, some of Clay. 

“Yeah,” was the only answer he got. The phone sat in silence next to him in his pillow for a moment, before he rolled over and pulled it closer. 

“What… What do you mean?” 

“We mean that… I guess… I guess we feel the same? We talked about it when we got the message, and when you didn’t respond. You know that George and I are pretty open with each other, with the flirting and all,” Clay said. 

Nick nodded quickly, before realizing they weren’t in the same room. 

“Yeah. I know that.”

George’s voice came through the phone this time, in a different tone than he had ever heard. 

“What was the dream?” 

Nick balked. He had just learned that his two best friends were sexually interested, and now had to explain the incredibly good wet dream he had had about both of them. All in what felt like the span of a minute. 

“It was inappropriate,” he whispered, voice crackling.

“Oh, I assumed,” chuckled Clay. 

The same chuckle Nick had heard in his dream. He could feel himself hardening in his boxers. 

“But that wasn’t what we asked, was it?” 

“No sir.” 

It just slipped out. Nick hadn’t meant to say it, never even considered it. His southern upbringing had conditioned him to the honorific, and it came to mind every time he was chastised.

He heard two simultaneous breaths being sucked in.

“Sir? Guess they were right,” George laughed in the same dark tone that Clay has. “They knew what you wanted before we did. Isn’t that right? Now Nick, do you think that’s fair?”

A shudder went through his body at that. 

“No,” He whispered. 

“Good boy.”

Jesus fuck. Nick was ruined. He whimpered softly, which must have been picked up by his phone. George groaned in his ear, and he felt his face heat up.

“God, Nick, if I knew you were such a sub we would’ve done this earlier,” Clay hissed, his voice tense with an emotion that he couldn’t describe as anything but lust. 

George chimed in, amusement in his voice. “I usually sub for Clay, by the way. But after hearing that, I’ve decided I’m a definite switch. Clay doesn’t though, so you’re stuck with the both of us.”

Another whimper fell out of Nick’s mouth, his hand gripping the pillow next to him as he listened. 

“Nick?” Clay asked tentatively. “Can you talk?” 

He let out a low grumble in response, his brain too muddled with all of these warm thoughts to form words. 

“Do you know what subspace is?”

Nick made a noise of disagreement, his breath hitching at the sound of Clay’s voice.

“Clay, let me talk to him. You’re too commanding right now. We need to do limits and stuff first, remember? Nick. You’re in subspace right now. You’re going to feel like you can’t talk, and can’t do anything but listen. That’s okay, but we need to discuss limits and safe words, okay? We want to do this right. I’m going to try and bring you out now.”

Nick barely absorbed anything but ‘limits’ and ‘bring you out’. He didn’t want to stop feeling how he was. He liked it. He was light as a feather, his brain and body so warm he thought he could melt. 

“Nick, listen to me. Tell me what you see.” George’s voice was harsher this time, and he felt compelled to listen. 

As he started to focus on his surroundings, he began to come back to himself. The fingers underneath his pillow began to tingle as he regained motion. His movement was still sluggish, but he managed to reach over and grab the phone before putting it to his ear. 

“Hey. Yeah… I see a lamp. It’s next to me on the dresser. It’s pretty ugly. I don’t know why their designer decided on it. Bad taste, I guess,” Nick said, voice soft. 

“Good. Can you understand me better?” George asked.

“Mhm. What the fuck was that?” 

“It’s something called subspace? Remember when that whole ‘subnap’ thing was trending? It’s what happens when you go deep into the headspace of submission. It makes you more pliant and more relaxed. But it also gets rid of most critical thinking. That’s why we had to pull you out so we could discuss limits and such.” His voice was matter-of-fact, but still calming in a way that Nick hadn’t experienced in a long time. 

“I gotta say, hearing you whimper like that was hot as fuck. Didn’t know your voice could go that high,” Clay interjected, before he heard him assumably being swatted by George. 

“Man, shut up,” Nick laughed, grateful for the fact that they were back to playful banter, even if it was sexually charged. 

“So, seriously though. What are you into?” 

Nick took a deep breath. 

“To be honest, I don’t know. I didn’t really know this side of y’all existed until about 10 minutes ago. I just… the way you both talked to me. That was nice,” he explained, voice raspy with need. 

“So, you’re into degradation I guess? Like when we talk down to you?” George explained, attempting to put it into simple terms. 

“I think he liked that. We obviously have enough evidence,” Clay joked, “But we should probably explain to him what we’re into so we don’t confuse him. It’s all new terms to him. Also, I’m curious.” 

Nick chuckled at that, but a blush still spread up his neck.

“Sure thing.”

“Alright. Nice to meet you, I’m Clay and I’m a sadist. I’m into inflicting pain, watching people squirm and such. I’m big into impact play and choking, as well as predator/prey dynamics. Not the best at rigging, but I’d like to try it. I’m also a pretty big degrader. It was hot as shit to listen to you whimper. You sounded so pathetic,” he laughed. 

He struggled to keep in the moan that elicited, hand pressed hard over his mouth.

“Um… I’m George. You know that. C, why did you introduce yourself? That’s stupid as fuck,” George asked, “I’m a sub leaning switch, meaning that I can go between dom and sub. I’m more of what they call a ‘soft dom’. I’m big into begging, and I love to piece people back together after pulling them apart. Mind games are definitely a favorite. Usually when I sub I’m more of a service sub, meaning I like rules and routines.”

So that explained why their house was so tidy. 

“Nick, you still there?” Clay chimed in. 

“Yup. Just… listening I guess. Learning lots of new words today. Am I supposed to share what I’m into?” 

“Yeah, I mean, if you know. It’s all kinda new,” came George’s voice. He sounded almost apologetic, as if he was the one that started all of this, and not Nick. 

“I don’t know what rigging is, but it sounds lowkey scary,” he laughed. “I guess degradation is definitely a thing. I think… I think I’m into being like, pinned down,” Nick explained, embarrassment obvious. The hand holding his phone twitched, and he decided to just switch it to speakerphone. So what if the people in the next room heard it. He’d be out of here soon anyway. 

Clay’s chuckle came through the speakers.

“So that’s what you dreamed about.” 

Nick rolled over and buried his head in the pillow. He could feel himself getting hot all over, and wanted to stifle the noises he made whenever Clay used that tone. 

“We can find out more later. Doesn’t really matter right now. Do you want to pick a safe word? It’s a word that you use when things get too much, or you get uncomfortable. It has to be a word you wouldn’t usually say during sex,” George explained with a patient voice.

“Crafting Table?” Nick laughed in spite of himself. “Fuck, my bad guys.” 

George growled lowly on the other end. 

“Not. Funny.” 

Luckily, the pillow managed to muffle most of Nick’s sharp breath in. George was grumbling on about how the joke was overused now, and how it didn’t really matter what actually happened, but Nick tuned him out as his hand snaked down to his boxers. 


	3. five minutes

It took the boys on the other end a moment before they noticed his labored breaths. They were still bickering, having shifted topics from the crafting table to another one of their little issues. But when they noticed,  _ oh boy did they notice _ .

“George. Be quiet for a second, will you? Jesus,” Clay hissed, listening to Nick on the other end. The British man shut up at that, listening intently as well.

“Are you… Nick? Are you jerking off to us arguing right now?” He asked, his voice with an air of innocence that Nick would never be able to forget. 

“N-no,” he breathed through clenched teeth, his hand gripping halfway down the base of his cock. “Just.. fell asleep for a minute there.”

Clay laughed, his voice cold. 

“Sure you did. If I don’t see you on Facetime in the next 10 seconds, you’re going to be fucking ruined when you make it back here.”

Nick flew onto his stomach to grab the phone, arms shaking as he pressed the Facetime button. As nice as the idea of being ruined by them sounded, he wasn’t sure he could put up with any more of their disappointed words. 

He flashed to light on screen, showing disheveled, sweat soaked hair and his blushed face. Nick’s pupils were huge, blown out as wide as possible. It was simple for the other two to see just how into this he was. 

Everyone’s breaths hitched when they saw each other. George’s hair was missed from sleep with a cowlick to one side, but he still looked delectable. Clay had his gaming headphones around his neck, and his lips were cherry-red from chewing on them impatiently. 

They looked beautiful. They were his. His beautiful boys. 

Clay broke the silence first. 

“You need to ask permission to touch yourself. You’re a shitty liar.” 

It was the sort of tone that sent Nick reeling, and his hand holding the phone began to shake. Looking up through half lidded eyes, he tried a sad attempt at an excuse. 

“You didn’t tell me that!” He snarled, but his hand jumped off of his dick. 

“Then we need some base rules.”

The idea of rules during sex seemed foreign to him. The only ones he was familiar with were verbal consent and boundaries. If there was anything else, he’d never learned it. 

“You can’t touch yourself without permission. You can’t cum without permission. When we give permission, you have to thank us. I’m fine with honorifics, but I don’t know about George. If anything gets too much, you will tell us, understood?” 

Nick nodded visibly. The idea of having to ask permission was seeming better and better by the moment. 

“Um, Gog...George… what can I call you?” He asked hesitantly.

“I’m up for anything, pretty boy,” came a purr of a voice across the line. 

Fuck. That was exactly what he had said in the dream. How did they know to push his buttons like this? Were his needs really that obvious? 

Focusing his eyes back on the faces of his friends, he licked his lips anticipatorily. 

“I’ll take that nickname as a yes,” George chuckled. “So. You’re up for this? I know we’re checking in a lot, but we don’t want to push you any farther than you want to go, especially when we’re not right next to you.”

Nick nodded again, his hair falling into his face. 

“Yes. Please. Jesus fuck.”

Clay’s face broke into a sadistic smile. 

“Then we‘ll start. First, I’m going to need you to take that naught fucking hand out of your boxers. Don’t think we didn’t notice.”

He sprang to attention, his hand quickly sliding out from underneath the waistband and onto his stomach. It was odd that he was listening to them so well. Usually he would have laughed at the command, with a ‘make me’ following afterwards. But this… this was different. He desperately wanted to listen. He wanted to be good. He wanted to be good for them. 

“That was quick. Can’t have you cumming all over yourself before we even get started,” George laughed, with a hint of malice. 

Nick mewled. He fucking  _ mewled _ . 

“You’re a whore,” was the only response. 

His brain couldn’t even differentiate between the two voices ringing in his ears at that point. All he wanted was to touch _ touch  _ **_touch_ ** . He needed their hands on him, he needed them to treat him like the way they were talking to him. 

“Please,” was all he could choke out, his labored pants picked up by the microphone. But his hand stayed stagnant on his stomach, no matter how much he itched to reach for his cock.

“I’ll bet you want to touch yourself real bad right now, huh?” Clay laughed. “I’ll make you a deal. You have to last at least five minutes, and then we’ll give you permission. If you don’t… well. George, what do you think is appropriate?” 

He could hear George shift in his seat, and watched as his hand moved to Clay’s thigh. 

“I vote for overstimulation, personally.”

What the hell was overstimulation? Nick could piece it together from the word roots, but it still didn’t make sense. Too much stimulation? Nobody would put themselves through that, and they weren’t here to do it for him, so how would it work? The confusion must have been clear on his face, because the Floridian cleared his throat. 

“If you cum before the five minutes are up, or before we give you permission, you don’t get to stop. You’ll keep going until we tell you to, won’t you, baby?”

It was clearly a rhetorical question. It seemed like all three already knew the answer, even if Nick didn’t want to admit it to himself. 

He wasn’t entirely sure he could last 5 minutes, and they had barely gotten started. 

“Perfect,” sighed George, resting his chin on his hand. “Put the phone somewhere we can watch. I want a show.”

Struggling to roll over without letting his leaking cock run against the sheets, Nick propped his phone up against the remarkably ugly lamp. Somehow, the light from his screen was enough to illuminate both his red face and the bed. 

Scooting back so his entire body was visible, he leaned against the headboard, hand hovering over his boxers. Nick couldn’t help but look at his friends to gauge their reaction. 

They both seemed enraptured with the sight, eyes wide and mouths half open. It was nice to know he had at least some semblance of control in this situation, even if it was tiny. 

“Go ahead.” 

The phrase seemed to be uttered by the both of the in unison, and Nick didn’t need any more convincing. The second he understood, his waistband was shoved down and his cock was out on display. His eyes were still on them, and it was clear where they were looking. 

“Looks… like you’ve… never seen a dick before,” he managed to choke out, hand skirting around his balls before settling on the top. Somehow, being on camera made Nick bold enough to joke while he was half delirious. It must have been the idea of being filmed. He could switch into his confident persona whenever he knew that there was a camera turned on him. 

“Nick.”

It wasn’t his name. It was a warning. 

“I might be able to forgive that slight if you can make it through the five minutes,” drawled George, his eyes still focused on the other boy’s lower half. “You can start, sweetheart.”

The gaming chair creaked as Clay leaned back in it, folding his hands behind his head to watch. His gaze was intent, eyes piercing through the screen directly to the heat in Nick’s stomach. 

He started slow, dragging the tip of his rough finger across the head, wetting them with precum. He wanted to prolong this without earning whatever the fuck ‘overstimulation’ was. Sure, it had been explained to him, but it still didn’t quite click in his head. 

“Nick. That doesn’t fucking count,” Clay chuckled, hands dropping from his head to George’s knee. He could see the grip on the British boy’s leg tighten as he began to wrap his hand around himself. It was the only evidence that they were actually invested other than their hitched breaths. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hnrgghhhgh we pumping this one out quickly lads soz if it’s a little shorter than usual i just have a whole lot of inspo ! comments fuel me


	4. claws first

He set an awkward pace, more focusing on keeping himself calm than his own pleasure. He knew what the boys wanted to see, and tried to put on a show as best he could, even though he was blushing harder than he thought possible. Nick’s hair had flopped into his face, and the back of his spine had begun to dig into the headboard where he was leaning. He barely felt it though, too focused on the breathy moans of Clay and George on the other side of the phone. 

They were still watching him intently, Clay’s hand wrapped around George’s thigh. It practically dwarfed it, massive fingers digging into his soft flesh hard enough to bruise. They were both enraptured by the sight, and George was hyper aware of the other man’s grip. 

Nick wasn’t usually an exhibitionist. Of course he’d fingered his fair share of girls under the table, but definitely never anything like this. It was exhilarating.

Every touch felt like electricity, and despite his drawn out pace he could still feel himself getting closer to the brink. 

The cloud in his brain was so overwhelmingly large that he couldn’t even remember who he was, much less how much time he had left. All that he could think about was how close he was, and just how  _ good _ it felt.

Clay’s face twitched. He knew that Nick was going to cum before the time was up, and do it without permission. As a sadist, he wanted to watch it happen. Wanted to break him over and over until he was begging to go over his knee, but Nick was weak. He hadn’t been exposed to anything like this yet. It would be overwhelming to suddenly jump on him, claws first. 

George must have thought the same thing, because his eyes met Clay’s in the camera. They shared a silent conversation, full of eye movements and mouth twitches. 

_ We can’t go too far.  _

_ But what if we did? _

_ Don’t risk it _

_ But oh God, he’d be so pretty _

Nick sat on the other end, shaking. He was too wrapped up in the idea of being watched to even consider who was watching him anymore. Sure, it was exactly who he wanted, but still, the idea of his best friends watching himself receiving the best handjob of his life wasn't exactly on his list. 

But, if he could think, he wouldn’t complain. 

The scent of sweat enveloped him. The pure effort it was taking to keep himself from cumming was more than any amount he’d ever put into exercise. Nick didn’t want to disappoint them. But it would feel so nice…

_ Fuck. _

Heat shot out of him onto his stomach, covering his groin and the lower half of his shirt. In his post-orgasm haze he could see George shaking his head gently, lips pursed. It felt awful to be looked at like that. He wanted them to look at him like he was the center of their universe, not like a bad puppy who needed to be sent outside.

Nick could feel a tear roll down his cheek. He became more and more aware of himself, finally coming back to his body. His muscles were cramping, and the pressure from the headboard on his back was almost too much. 

“Please… I’m sorry,” he whispered, breath shaky and weak. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Oh pretty boy,” Clay cooed, his voice softer than usual. “It’s okay. We know you needed it. But still, you made us a deal didn’t you?” 

“Yes yes yes…” Nick said, “Yeah… I don’t.. I don’t know if I can do that. I just fucking spent myself all over in front of you guys. I think any more might send me to hell or something,” he laughed weakly. 

George laughed in spite of himself. 

“I mean, we don’t want you to be uncomfortable. But then again, you also made us a deal. And, I feel like you’d enjoy it if we made you uncomfortable,” Clay continued, his tone simpler and more polite than usual. The last words were teasing, more like a friendly reminder than an insult.

“Clay,” George cut him off. “I think we should let him rest, don’t you think? We need to make sure he looks pretty for tomorrow. What would everyone say if he showed up with eye bags and mussed hair?” 

“They’d definitely think he got some,” Clay chuckled. 

It felt odd to be talked about as if he wasn’t there, but Nick wouldn’t complain about how small it made him feel. They were making the decisions for him. For once he could kick back. It was sort of humiliating to be talked down upon when he wasn’t even involved, but it was humiliating in a good way. 

They knew what was best for him. 

He felt himself slip down the headboard before resting his head on the pillow. It had been a long night. Maybe he could sleep to the sound of them chattering. It didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

Nick looked pitiful to them. He was flushed a bright red, pupils bigger than ever before. His hands were shaking, and his eyes wouldn’t focus. 

“You look thoroughly fucked out,” Clay purred. 

He couldn’t respond. 

George perked up. “We’ve made a decision.”

Nick hummed out of curiosity. He couldn’t quite form words yet, but he was still interested in the outcome.

“We’re not going to overstimulate you tonight. I personally don’t think it’s fair, and right now, what I say goes. Aren’t I right, Dreamie?” George teased, playfully smacking the back of Clay’s head. 

Clay ignored it.

“Yeah. I don’t want you going to the con tomorrow unable to walk. However, I’m not usually this lenient. I won’t give in this easily. You made me a deal. You’re going to keep your end, now or later.” 

Peering through the camera, the blonde boy attempted to see whether or not Nick was listening. He was facing away, body just a big lump under the covers. 

Nick had fallen asleep. 

_ That fucker _ , was all that Clay thought. 

George turned to him, voice sultry and low.

“We’re doing to absolutely ruin him, aren’t we?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man. comments fuel me!!! i love knowing what y’all think and sometimes i take inspo from ur ideas!! >:^) sorry for the weird posting schedule


	5. empty hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> slight angst don’t kill me

The convention seemed to blur past Nick, people in a whirlwind around him. He signed hats, gave hugs and kissed babies. The babies were definitely his favorite part. They didn’t try and ask him intrusive questions, and they didn’t ask why his hands shook so badly whenever someone mentioned Clay or George. It seemed to be the topic of the day. 

Clay still hadn’t done his face reveal, so of course he wasn’t there. George was with him, saying he was tired and begging off the con. That left Nick all alone. He did his duties with a heavy heart. 

He missed them. After they all moved into the same house, they’d barely had any time apart. As much as Nick complained about having to clean the dishes left out on the kitchen island, he really and truly enjoyed existing in the same space as them. 

He wasn’t so sure now.

Signing another piece of fanart, he half-smiled at the sketch of Clay’s big arms wrapped around his minecraft skin. After that, his mind went into a hole. He greeted everyone, but the phantom touch of Clay’s arms around him seemed to drag him away from every conversation. George’s hands would travel down the back of his neck to the small of back, dancing their way across his spine. It was such a bad distraction that he actually left early, practically running to his hotel room. 

The shower was too cold, but he was in no position to complain. The growing erection between his legs ebbed as the frozen water slid down his back. He came back to his senses after a moment, feeling his toes digging into the slick tile. 

Nick was due back in Florida in the next 6 hours. He had to pack, get to the airport and sit on the plane all while battling his imagination. 

It was a harder battle than he thought it would be. 

Clay’s hands were around his throat in the taxi. George’s thighs wrapped around his waist in the security. He could feel Clay’s hair like between his fingers boarding the plane. 

He could feel a cock down his throat as he settled into his seat.

He’d never done that before, but it was what he imagined it would feel like. Soft skin touching against his nose as his throat strained against the tip. Nick felt at a disadvantage. He’d never seen his friends in the nude before, but they’d seen him at his most vulnerable, practically begging for them to let him touch himself. 

The memory made his entire body hot. 

The way he’d been laid so bare, and they seemed relatively unbothered. The memory was still hazy, but even thinking about it was enough to raise his blood pressure. 

The flight was too long, but not long enough. 

When he would finally land he’d have to face them, knowing how he felt. Knowing how they felt. 

Not knowing how they felt. 

He’d watched them together before. They’d never said anything about a relationship, but they were just… so domestic. Nick would walk in on George’s head slumped on the other boy’s lap as they watched a shitty movie, Clay’s hand in his hair. 

Sure, Nick was touchy. He’d grab them by the shoulders and pull them in for a bear hug, but it was nothing like the way they were touchy with each other. They were soft, gentle touches that drove him crazy to watch; simple things like adjusting a shirt or missing hair. 

It hurt. 

Nick wasn't neglected, he just wasn’t touched like that. 

As the plane landed, he tried to collect himself. He knew he wouldn’t have enough time to mask everything on the uber there. Knowing his luck, he’d end up with a hard-on halfway there. 

That would be hard to explain.

In his head, they would take him in his arms and fling him into the bedroom. In reality, he knew what had happened the night before was a one time thing. They probably were just playing with him, using him to get their rocks off and leave him in the hotel bed. 

However, he did get a great orgasm out of it. 

_Even if it was just a one time thing_. 

Nick really hoped it wasn’t. 

He _really_ hoped it wasn’t. 

The uber dropped him off too fast. He managed to just barely slide out of the car, the bag falling out behind him as he stumbled towards their front door. It loomed in front of him, and Nick could feel himself begin to shake slightly. He knew he had to walk through the door and keep himself stable for the amount of time before he could make it to his room. Then he could lock the door. 

_Why was this so hard?_

Through the door. That was it. That was all he had to do. He could take it in steps. 

He took his step forward. 

Climbing up the porch, he scrambled for the keys in his pocket. Before he put them in, he took a deep breath in. 

The world seemed to spin as the key clicked in the lock. He could feel George’s hands trailing away from his back, Clay’s hands leaving his throat. He was empty as he stepped through the door frame. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hihi reminder that i luv reading ur comments they fill me with so much joy!! i promise the angst will be over after this chapter


	6. grip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hohoho

It was dark inside. No voices called out to greet him, the silence stark in the hallway. The sound of his bag dropping onto the hardwood floor rang out, and his shoes slid off in tandem. It was still quiet, and Nick was tempted to shout out into the house just to see if anyone was home. They should have been. It wasn’t like they had anything else to do. 

So it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter at all.

Nick padded through the entryway, his socks sliding gently across the wood as he made his way to the living room. He didn’t feel like turning on the lights. He had lived here long enough to know where everything was, and could navigate it without forming any new bruises. Maybe it would be easier to keep it dark. There wouldn’t be the need to deal with the sight of an empty couch and a black TV screen. He wouldn’t have to consider why they had left before greeting him.

Why they hadn’t even texted.

It wasn’t too much of a mystery to him. They’d gone too far, and they didn’t want to continue it. It was upsetting that they were too pussy to tell him though. It'd be easier if they’d just tell him to piss off to his face instead of leaving vague little clues for him to catch. It would be easier if they’d just let him down easy.

Nick wanted to scream. He hadn’t even made it to the living room yet, having just barely passed the kitchen island when he felt a large hand wrap around his waist. 

The fingers dug into the soft flesh of his side, and would have left welts if he wasn’t wearing a thick hoodie. Nick’s entire body froze. It felt like his brain was short circuiting, neurons connecting in the wrong place intentionally. There was a hand on his waist. 

There was a hulking man behind him. He could feel his presence, and felt his height as if he could see him in the dark. The grip on his waist didn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon, but it had only been just a second. 

Nick relaxed into the grip, feeling himself falling into the headspace that Clay and George had worked so hard to bring him out of earlier that week. 

The calloused hands felt just as he’d imagine, the harsh grip practically turning his legs to jelly. Nick found himself leaning backwards into the body behind him, and the grip on his waist relaxed.

“So you’re home, pretty boy,” Clay growled, his scent overpowering. He smelled like firewood and Old Spice deodorant. His hot breath on Nick’s neck was the only thing tethering him to the planet at that moment. If he couldn’t practically feel Clay’s teeth sunk into his throat he knew his soul would be spiraling off into the ceiling. 

Ghosting his lips over Nick’s neck, Clay found his hands rising up under his shirt to skim across his chest. The shorter boy was soft and warm there, chest hair brushing through his fingers. It was obvious that the taller had found Nick’s nipple when his knees practically buckled. The way that Clay’s practiced fingers were able to touch him in such a way almost destroyed him from the inside out.

It was still dark. Nick could recognize him by his voice, but he wanted to see himself in Clay’s arms. It was warmer there. He wasn’t empty anymore.

Nick went to spin in the blond’s grip, twisting his hips in an attempt to face him. Clay’s hand only tightened on his waist, the other snaking out of his shirt to grab his chin. 

“No,” was the only response he got, half grunted.

He let out a whine, but returned to where he was being held. The hand on his chin lessened it’s grip. 

“Good boy,” Clay hummed, arousal obvious in his voice. “It must be hard not to be able to see my beautiful face.”

Nick chuckled, but the heat in his stomach stayed stagnant. 

His eyes had begun to adjust to the dim lighting, and managed to make out the shape of George sitting in one of their upholstered armchairs. Still pinned against Clay’s chest, he could feel his heartbeat against the back of his neck. 

George was sprawled lazily across the chair, with one leg up on the armrest. He was watching with heavy lidded eyes, practically touching Nick with his gaze. The shorter man seemed comfortable in his spot, content to just watch the action from his vantage point. With every move of the blonde Nick could see George’s tongue flick out to wet his lips.

He could only imagine what he looked like, having only just come through the door, hoodie and pants still rumpled from the uber and the plane. He was flushed, standing nearly on his tiptoes to lessen the ever-tightening grip on his chin. He knew he looked ruined, but it was fascinating to see George enjoy his ruination so much. 

George’s teasing accent brought him out of his head. 

“You already look fucked out, Christ,” he hissed, relaxed demeanor falling away. Nick could only move his eyes to look at him, still held in place by the man behind him. 

Clay hadn’t moved for what felt like a century, but it was clear that George’s words had affected him more than he let on. The fingers only dug in more into the flesh of his cheek, and the heartbeat he was pressed against began to race. If Nick was a betting man, he would bet that Clay was barely holding himself back from bending him over the kitchen island. That only fed his need to talk back, to anger him more.

“Bet you wish you could see my face right now, don’t you?” He laughed, barely able to squeeze the words past his clenched jaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes so this is not over!! i have many many work ideas so stay tuned!!


	7. don't rush the fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah it took me way too long to pump this short chapter out but i hope u enjoy!

Clay practically purred behind him, clearly amused by Nick’s antics. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll see enough of it in a moment.” 

He could hear George laugh in the darkness, and that was the only warning he got before Clay’s hand moved from his chin to grip around his waist and threw him over his shoulder. His grip was just as tight on his waist as it was on his chin. It was almost like he was expecting Nick to struggle. 

  
_ God, did he want to? _

That was a good question. Nick wanted to fight against it, just to see what would happen. But also, it might slow down whatever was going to happen. He was definitely not taking that risk. The way that Clay was manhandling him was more than enough for him already, and he couldn't wait to see where it would go. Especially with how detached George was. It smelled of a plan, like the other two had spoken before about what they were going to do.

_ Of course they did, _ Nick mentally cursed himself. If they had been thinking about him even a fraction as much as he had thought about them, they had definitely planned something. A million scenarios ran through his head, flashing past his eyes as he was lifted up the stairs. George trailed behind him quietly as they passed the first landing, footfalls soft enough that Nick could barely track him. It was eerie to be treated so roughly in silence, but he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed it. He was able to tell when they’d reached the top of the stars because his head stopped bouncing against Clay’s back, and George had stopped walking. All he could see was the hardwood beneath him, and the back of Clay’s belt. As they moved toward what Nick assumed was George’s room, he felt Clay’s left hand move to grip at the flesh of his ass, gently kneading it with every step. His hand was huge, covering nearly all of what it touched. It was odd for him. Usually when he had hookups, they were always rather small compared to him. Clay could manhandle him so easily, and he was sure George got off on watching it. 

The door to the room was shoved open unceremoniously, and he felt himself fly toward the bed before landing in a heap on the sheets. A clicking sound of the lock brought Nick back to his senses, and he stared up at the two men above him. Clay was grinning from ear to ear, almost menacingly. George stood patiently as he observed the way he reacted. The contrast between the pair was stark but not unwelcome, if the forming bulge in his pants was anything to show for it. It felt like they were waiting for him to make the first move, just testing the waters. Nick had no idea what to do, he knew he was doe-eyed staring up at them, frozen in place. 

_ Fuck it _ , he thoguht, before lying back on the bed and spreading his legs as invitingly as he could.

That was when the mood changed. The second his thighs fell apart Clay was on him, teeth tearing at his neck and chest through his shirt. George circled around to the side of his bed, fingers trying to pull Nick apart by his seams. They were soft but obviously very practiced, and the way he stroked his thigh was enough to send a brain fog through him. 

Nick couldn’t stop himself when a moan passed his lips. It was only biology. Of course being touched like that would make him feel good. But that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. 

George must have seen the way he reddened, and cracked a matching grin to the other. 

“Look at you,” he drawled, accent thick. “Already moaning like a whore and we’ve barely touched you.” 

Nick whined. He tried not to let George know just how much it affected him but he definitely whined. His noises only spurred the Brit on more, his fingers starting to dance around his inner thighs, getting closer and closer to where he wanted them to be. Clay was still marking him animalistically, and seemed happy to stay where he was. Nick was still splayed on his back, Clay forced between his legs and George to the side as they tormented him. The contrast between the feather touches from George and the pressure from Clay’s teeth against his neck was driving him insane. He didn't know how much longer they planned on doing this, and he wasn’t sure he’d beableto last another five minutes without breaking down. 

“Guys… Please,” He whined, reaching up to grab at the back of Clay’s shirt. “No more teasing, please.” The man on top of him immediately pulled away, staring down as he knelt between Nick’s thighs. 

“Teasing? Oh, pretty boy,” he laughed. “Do you want to see what real teasing is? Or are you a fucking impatient brat who can’t wait to get what he wants?” Clay sat there for a moment to gauge Nick’s reaction. When the other blushed in response, he took it as a green light and kept going. “Maybe I’ll let George do whatever he wants to you, hmm? You know how good he is with his fingers.” He punctuated it with a wink, turning to look at the boy he mentioned. “Georgie, would you like that?” 

George nodded into Nick’s side, still tracing light circles into his soft thigh. “I’d love that, sweetheart. You go too fast. He’s already marked and he’s not even undressed,” he chuckled. “If it was up to me, I’d have him begging me to keep going. No use in rushing the fun.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Please don’t harass the CC’s about any pairings/ships! If they change their mind about this sort of content, this work will be taken down immediately.


End file.
